C.T. Adams is a U.S.A. Today Bestselling Author who writes both individually and as co-author with Cathy L. Clamp. Our new joint pen name is Cat Adams. This is Cie's Blog. View and Participate AT YOUR OWN RISK (BWA, HA, HA, HA!!!)

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial/Boone Carter

"I don't know yet." I admitted. "But I'm going to find out."

I realized I'd just basically told him what the old woman specifically told me not to. Oh well. She'd be pissed if she found out, and there'd probably be some nasty consequences. But hey, Rock/Hard place and all that. Besides, if I was actually going to do anything I'd need access to information, the kind of information "Jimmy" was in a perfect position to give me. And I like collecting my paycheck. So sue me.

"What do you need from me?"

I asked for the usual, a recent photo, address, hangouts, names and contact information for friends. He gave me everything he had, although how accurate it would be was up for grabs. Parents think they know their adult kids--and in a way they do. But most of the time the memories of the child and the teenager get tangled up with and color a parent's perception of current reality. Sometimes that works to everybody's benefit. Most parents don't want to believe that "their" Melody is a strung out meth head, turning tricks for the money to score. Unless there's something seriously twisted about the relationship most kids don't want their parents to realize it either. So there's a tacit agreement that makes everybody happy. All right, maybe not happy. But happier.

Yeah, yeah, there are exceptions. But most of the time it's been my experience that nobody knows anybody as well as they think they do: Husbands, wives, parents, kids, friends, lovers, what have you. We all have secrets. Bet on it.

Carmichael reached into his back pocket, pulled a photo from his wallet and passed it across the table. "I want you on this full time. I'll tell Joe. You'll get your salary. But this is all you work on, until it's fixed. My mother is a real piece of work. But she's never wrong about shit like this. So you fix it. Whatever it takes. Got it?"

I took the photo. "I'm going to tell you exactly what I told your mother. I'll find out what's going on, and I'll tell you whatever it is. If I can fix it legally, I will. But I won't do anything that's going to land me in jail. You want that, you'll have to get somebody else."

He didn't like it any better than the old lady had. "Aren't we the fussy one."

How bitchy. I stayed calm, kept a pleasant expression on my face. Carmichael and his mother have money and power. They're used to getting what they want. They're not used to a peon like me telling them no, particularly when they waive lots and lots of dollar signs in front of them. I understand that. Don't like it much. But I understand it just fine. So I kept my voice level and pleasant when I answered. "I have a strong sense of self preservation. I'll find out what's going on. And I'll pass on whatever I find. What you do with the information is up to you. Fair enough?"

"It'll do."

I was going out the door as Darlene was headed back in. I held it open for her, and was rewarded with a big smile, a whole-body wiggle, and two of the four burritos. No donuts, but hey, life's not perfect.